


Five times Haymitch pretended he had weird kinks- and the one time he actually did.

by Zedrobber



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M, I do apologise, Sex, actual piss porn, bad language, discussion of bestiality, discussion of object insertion, discussion of rape threat/mild mention of torture, discussion of scat play, discussion of sexual vomit fetish, mention/description of kinks, pretty much just everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 02:04:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3191381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zedrobber/pseuds/Zedrobber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haymitch decides to play a joke on Effie and attempt to convince her of his unusual kinks/fetishes. Complete and utter crack, my apologies, humour and pretty much PWP at the end there. </p><p>Usual 5/1 times format. PLEASE NOTE that there are mentions of bestiality, scat (poo) play, strange object insertion, vomit fetish, and a brief mention of rape threats, as well as described piss porn, so please take care when reading!<br/>***Please; absolutely no offence is meant to anyone with any of the mentioned interests. I have a fair few weird ones of my own and would hate to think I had upset anyone or kink shamed them when that is absolutely not my intention, go forth and consensually enjoy yourselves :-)***</p><p>Thanks to SapSorrow for helping me think of interesting new kinks when my brain went dry and also for discussing the logistics. No thanks to her for making me publish it when I wasn't going to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five times Haymitch pretended he had weird kinks- and the one time he actually did.

The first time, it was because Haymitch had thought it would be funny to see her reaction. They were sat around the table, Effie sipping tea daintily from a chipped and filthy mug Haymitch had found her, and him downing white liquor from the bottle at a rate she found distasteful.

“I want to take a shit on you while we fuck,” he said casually, dropping it into the silence between them as though he had asked her to pass the sugar. He deliberately didn’t make eye contact, looking at her from under his eyelashes as he pretended to study his bottle.

“Haymitch Abernathy! _What_ on Earth are you talking about?” she screeched, her grip on the mug slipping slightly and her wig listing every so daintily to one side. Her mouth opened and closed like a carp for several moments as she clearly attempted to make sense of his request. Haymitch bit the inside of his cheek to keep his face straight.

“Well _really_ -“ she spluttered finally, her face colouring underneath the makeup and her hand with the mug in raising to her lips only to fall again in utter dismay. “-Well! How utterly vulgar of you! I cannot believe you would say such a thing to a lady. I am appalled at you, Haymitch; appalled that you would even _suggest_ such a vile, _disgusting_ act to me in such a way- it is the _height_ of bad manners, completely inappropriate at _breakfast_ of all times- I am completely shocked, yes, shocked, and believe me I do not shock easily, no indeed-“

“Effie,” Haymitch said quietly, hiding his smile.

“No! No no no, Haymitch. No more! I am _completely done_  with your-“

“Effie. I’m just joking.”

“Well!” And she fell silent, her mug still hovering uncertainly between the table and her lips, her tea steaming gently in the morning light. Haymitch cracked up, banging his fist on the stained old wood of the table and howling with laughter until his face hurt and his ribs felt tight and bruised.

 

\--

 

He could hardly help himself, the second time; not after the first had been so completely delightful.

They were in bed, just at the delicious point between sex and sleep, and he turned to face her with a serious expression and a deep sigh. Effie was relaxed, placidly curled up beside him with none of her usual poise.

“Effie?”

“Mmm?”

“I want to fuck you with a marrow.”

“ _What?”_

“A marrow. A really big one.”

“You want to –“ and she whispered the next word as though ashamed, despite having said it at least fifteen times during the last hour of exploits- “ _fuck_ me with vegetables?”

Haymitch nodded as earnestly as he could manage, narrowing his eyes in what he hoped was a seductive way.

“Haymitch _Abernathy-“_ and he knew it was going to be good by the sharp upwards tilt to her voice on his surname, the vicious narrowing of her eyes- “I am _not_ a vegetable patch in your filthy little District allotment! You will _not_ be stuffing me with marrows or parsnips or any other root vegetable! I _refuse_ to have my nether regions prodded by – by the giant mutated cousin of a cucumber! It’s-it’s just –“

“Bad manners?” Haymitch supplied.

“ _Unladylike!”_ And she smacked him in the arm while he burst into gales of laughter again, gasping out “I’m kidding,” between breaths.

“I hate you.”

 

\--

 

The third time was almost an accident; he had been sick in the kitchen after a particularly good bout of drinking, and Effie had forced him to clean it up, standing over him like a parent until the last of it was gone and he was up and in a chair again, drinking black coffee in dismay. He was prodding it with a spoon in the hope that it would transmute into whiskey when the thought occurred to him that he could brighten up his day a little.

“Effie,” he said in a tone aiming for contrite and curious.

“Yes?” she replied, long suffering, her nose wrinkled at the memory of his vomit.

“I want to throw up on you while we fuck. You know, all over you. You could throw up while you suck my cock too.”

There was a long, painful beat of silence where she looked at him and blinked very delicately. He smiled back, innocently, and then she exploded.

“HAYMITCH!!”

One hand flailed in mid-air as if grasping for the precise words she desperately needed to express her distress. “You are a _pig_ , Haymitch. A filthy, disgusting, low, gutter-dwelling, vile creature, who should be living outside with your damned geese rather than in here and pretending to be human. You are a- a monster, a brute- a complete savage with no decorum or manners at _all-“_  and this looked  like the most upsetting part to her, much to Haymitch’s amusement- “and I don’t _know_ what I am supposed to do with you, you horrid creature-well, really-“

“Joking.”

“I am going to _kill_ you, Haymitch Abernathy-“ she shrieked, leaning over the table to throw her tea in his face before she left the room.

He laughed for a solid ten minutes and was promptly sick again. In the coffee.

 

\--

 

The fourth time was simply to see if she would believe him again. “I wanna watch you fuck a dog.”

She did, her face confused and her wig shifting to the left as she turned her head whiplash-fast to peer at him. They were walking through District 12- well, what was left of it, most of it gone and now rebuilt. “Why on earth would someone have sexual relations with a- a dog?”

“Some people get off on it,” he shrugged, adding quickly “Like me.”

“I- what?” She apparently couldn’t quite grasp it for a long moment, and then her nose wrinkled and she pushed at him with one gloved hand. “You are disgusting, Haymitch. No one would have sex with an animal.”

“Plenty of people do. You’d look hot with a dog co-“

“Do not finish that sentence, Haymitch Abernathy, if you have a desire to keep your own _cock_ attached,” she hissed quietly, turning to flash a beatific smile to some passers-by who were looking alarmed. “You are _vile_ and I don’t want to hear anything about an animals’ genitalia-“

“You call me an animal often enough and you don’t seem to have a problem with mine-“

“You – you-“ she was clutching for an insult she hadn’t used yet and came up weakly with “- _fiend_.”

“Oh, I’m a fiend. Oh no, you _wound me._ ” He grabbed at his chest, pretending to swoon.

“HAYMITCH-“ she stopped to giggle again at some more pedestrians, giving them a little wave as they crossed the street to avoid the spat- “I am going to _murder you_ when we get home- you are embarrassing me in public- in _public_ , Haymitch! I will not be asked to – to-“

“Fuck a dog,” Haymitch reminded her.

“Precisely!” She began spluttering again, shaking with the indignity of it all.

“Joking,” Haymitch whispered sweetly into her ear. “Again.”

She made him walk ten paces behind her all the way back home.

_Worth it._

_\--_

The fifth time was decidedly less successful, considering Effie’s time with the law enforcement agency in the Capitol during the Revolution and her less than gentle treatment at their hands.

“Let’s do a kinky roleplay,” he suggested, just before bed one night. He was out of other ideas, had in fact spent the day attempting to come up with something outlandish but believable for him to be into. Effie frowned, squinting at him in a most unladylike fashion which she quickly corrected.

“A kinky roleplay?”

“Yeah. I can’t get off anymore unless we’re pretending to be something really kinky.”

She looked affronted and slightly mortified, but continued to take the bait. “Like what?”

Haymitch then dropped the ball and watched as his mouth moved faster than his brain for what was decidedly not the first nor last time in his life. “Oh, I dunno. Kinky Peacekeeper and Rebel prisoner?” He knew it was wrong as soon as the words left his mouth, but was unable to reel them back in.

“That is not funny, Haymitch,” Effie said acidly. “Nor is it kinky, considering the circumstances.”

And once he was being a dick, Haymitch had no choice but to go full dick and continue rather than back down graciously. “Circumstances? Sure you don’t wanna give it a go, maybe have a full body search, possibly some inappropriate manhandling-“

Effie slapped him hard across the face, her eyes seething under a calm mask of politeness. “Haymitch Abernathy, that is enough. It was bad enough being tortured, the threat of rape at every turn-“ and she paused to make him understand just how unfunny that was- “-without you _joking_ about it.”

He stopped, rubbed his stinging face but didn’t argue it. It was too far. He just hadn’t thought.

And then Effie smiled, dangerously, and Haymitch was more terrified than he remembered being in recent months.

“Actually,” she said daintily, with a little nod. “Let’s do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. You be the rebel prisoner.” Her smile was all teeth, and Haymitch ran for his life with her laughter ringing in his ears for once.

 

\--

 

The final time was improvised.  They’d been fucking, and Haymitch really needed to piss but couldn’t be bothered to move from the comfort of bed now that they were warm and snuggled down. Idly, he mumbled, “Effie.”

“Mmm?”

“I wanna piss on you.”

“Oh no you don’t, Haymitch. I’m not falling for that again, not a chance. I’ve had it up to here with your ridiculous idea of a joke, and I will _not_ be fooled again into thinking you want to do _that-“_

But Haymitch had been thinking about it for a while now, and it was _actually_ something he could be into- marking his territory, claiming ownership of her, and most importantly, giving her something to wail about for weeks. Watching his hot piss stream over her, soaking her- that would be _ridiculous_.

And he was half-hard again, and still needed to go. _Fuck it._ He got up a little, kneeling between her legs as though he was still listening to her, nodding politely as she continued her tirade.

“- and what’s more, these are _clean sheets_ which I know is a complete novelty for you but that doesn’t mean you’d want to sully them _that_ quickly, surely. So, in other words, no I will not be taken in by your-“

“Shut up Effie,” he sighed pleasantly, taking his cock in one hand and proceeding to piss all over her stomach, her thighs; even her cunt, still sticky from the sex. Effie was appallingly, painfully silent for a long moment, her eyes comically wide and staring at Haymitch with such disbelief that it almost ruined the moment for him- almost, but not quite, as he watched himself soak her and sheets below them, his cock almost fully hard before he was done, his eyes black and dangerous and Effie shivering under his glare. Finally he was finished, and with a grunt he fell back onto the bed beside her, not looking at her and waiting for the abuse to begin.

“Well, _really-“_ she began, and then she stopped. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I-“ she lowered her voice to a whisper, seemingly horrified at herself. “I’m wet.”

“Well no shit, I’ve just pissed all over you, sweetheart.”

“No, Haymitch-“ and she took his hand very gently and guided it between her thighs- “I’m _wet.”_

 _“Oh.”_ He grinned at her, and she had the decency to blush and raise a hand to pat her wig back into place.

“Haymitch, you got my wig, you brute-“

“It’ll wash,” he muttered, grabbing it and tossing it to the floor. “Now spread your legs for me sweetheart, be a good Capitol whore.”

“How dare you,” she sighed in pleasure, squirming under his touch as his rough hands raked their way down her body, shoving her thighs apart so he could drag her closer. When he pushed his cock into her savagely she grabbed at his back, digging her sharp nails into his skin hard enough to leave crescent-shaped wounds and moaning as he began to fuck her brutally hard, pounding into her again and again.

“Oh you are wet, aren’t you?” he snarled into her neck. “Always so wet for me, always soaking and ready for me to fuck you-“

“-Shut- up,” she breathed, biting into his shoulder as punctuation. “Just shut up and fuck me, you filthy animal.”

He huffed out a short laugh and shifted slightly to brace himself on his hands, rolling his hips to make her whine in frustration before beginning the vicious thrusts again. “Touch yourself,” he ordered, watching as she snaked a hand between them to her clit, her face flushing as though she had been caught doing something naughty even as she gasped in pleasure, her eyes half closing.

“No. Look at me.”

With a whimper, she obeyed, and under his dark-eyed stare she was done in minutes, shuddering out her orgasm with his name on her lips and her nails in his back. Haymitch followed long enough after her that she was whining again in over-sensitised pleasure by the time he came deep inside her.

“I think,” she said very carefully after a long moment’s silence, “That we should go and bathe. And possibly sleep in the spare bedroom tonight.”

For once, Haymitch didn’t even protest at the mention of a bath.

 

 

 


End file.
